


Let's Talk About Your Hair

by lilithsang3l



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:15:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithsang3l/pseuds/lilithsang3l
Summary: illumi returns to hisoka's flat after a visit home
Relationships: Hisoka & Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	Let's Talk About Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

> **possibly ooc**  
> I wrote this and pressed post, I didn't reread it. Sorry for any errors !!

The sound of the door clicking shut wasn't heard over the spray of the shower, so Illumi slipped past the bathroom undetected. As fatigued as they were, their footsteps were still silent, and they dropped their bag off in the living room. Other than Hisoka's humming, and the occasional thud of a bottle, the apartment was quiet.

Toeing off their flats, Illumi leant against the wall. They were exhausted.

A visit home had resulted in punishment, the Zoldyck family not impressed with the people Illumi had been associating themself with recently, taking it as a personal offence. Their actions were an insult to the Zoldyck name, an obviously deliberate decision, as Illumi was 'spiteful', 'ungrateful'. Silva and Kikyo had trained them against physical punishment, though. They had turned their eldest child into a machine, they said.  
For the first time in their life, they were unsure about how Hisoka was going to react.

Generally, Hisoka was predictable. He wanted to be predictable, in a way - it made his surprises even more surprising, his tricks more deceiving.  
Illumi liked routine. They liked knowing what to expect. They didn't like the unease tickling down their spine, the anxiety digging between their ribs and clawing at their heart.  
Neither Hunter was particularly vain: Illumi didn't care and Hisoka wasn't fussy ((though he had said before he enjoyed 'pretty people') Illumi didn't know if they fell under that title, but also didn't know if they wanted to). The new development in their relationship, could it be called one, had proved to them both that they planned on sticking around. And yet, Illumi was reluctant to pull down their hood to look in the mirror of their vanity, to spare themself the self-loathing in case Hisoka was driven away.

If previous nights spent together had any indication, Hisoka liked to style Illumi's hair. He liked to braid it, tie it up into little buns, play with clips and curlers and pins. On occasion when Illumi allowed it, he liked to pull it. Falling nearly to their calves, the sheer volume of it held endless opportunities for styles. But now, staring at their own reflection, eyes blank but eyebrows furrowed, Illumi could nearly see their scalp.  
Inches and inches of sleek, black hair gone, a considerable contrast to the spiky fuzz left in its wake. Illumi hated it. Their head felt lighter, looked squarer, their ears stuck out more. They looked more boy-ish. The purple around their right eye looked darker - a reminder, not a punishment. It made their skin crawl.

It made sense, really, when they thought about it. Why their parents would target their hair. They should've known, when they were called home, that it wasn't good. Illumi was always good and it never warranted any attention.

Down the hall, the water turned off, and they felt suffocated by the sudden silence.

Illumi doesn't get sick, they are immune to nearly all poisons and drugs, but a sudden wave of nausea made their head spin. Dread, perhaps. Tucking a phantom strand behind their ear, they dropped their jacket off their shoulders, the dull sound of it hitting the floor barely registering.

"Hmm, is that you, darling?" Hisoka drawled, coming down the hallway. He stopped at the doorway, stunned. They were both nearly as naked as each other - Hisoka wearing only a towel and Illumi's head shaved. Had they not been trained to control their pulse, Illumi was sure their heart would be racing. "You must have the wrong home."

Still, Illumi didn't move. They were waiting for a cackle, or a joke, or a lewd comment about there not being a sufficient amount of hair to get his hand in. None came.

"My head was shaved." They said, voice flat as ever.

Hisoka tilted his head. "Sweetheart, I can see that." He stepped forward, hand coming up to trace their cheekbone. The skin was mottled, slightly swollen. "Oh baby, what have they done to you?"

Blinking, they played the words they had been told over in their head, sorting them into the right order before relaying, making sure they would be interpreted correctly. "I was reprimanded for my behaviour. It didn't make a lot of sense to me at the time, but I was told that 'being a faggot doesn't mean my hair needs to be long'. I'm not familiar with the word."

Eyes narrowed, Hisoka tutted. "You shouldn't be familiar with it, darling, it's unpleasant. They think you're their son, and you're not, so they're unhappy. You look so beautiful, baby."

Illumi pulled away - away from Hisoka, turned from the mirror. "I look like their son. Perhaps they are right." They considered. "I must adjust."

Their hand was taken, pulled against Hisoka's chest so they had no option other than to look at him. "But, darling, what about all of your dresses? However shall I live?" He kissed their knuckles, one by one, before progressing further up the hand. "The pretty skirts? Your necklaces and the sun hat you wore on our trip? You look so perfect wearing them."  
Lips met wrist, and Illumi felt a gentle scraping of teeth. "Sweetheart, I'll kill them if you ask it of me."

This, Illumi knew. They wouldn't even need to ask, Hisoka would try anyway.

"I am going to bed now, Hisoka. I'm rather tired." They tried to untangle themself from the clutches of their partner, but Hisoka's grip was rather incessant.

When they looked up, Hisoka levelled their gaze, eyes serious and hard. "You are beautiful, having no hair changes that. You're not their son, and it is a disservice to you to call yourself a Zoldyck. Darling, do you understand?"

They didn't like it when Hisoka talked to them like they were a child. He had said one time that he just wanted his words to be clear, but it made Illumi feel stupid. "It is my name, an unchangeable fact. I am going to bed," they insisted, this time pulling free.

Hisoka merely watched as Illumi removed their clothes, replacing them with a loose shirt - one Hisoka recognised as his own - and underwear. Slipping under their covers, they lifted the opposite corner. "You can sleep here tonight, if you want."  
Dropping the towel, Hisoka slid in next to Illumi, fitting into position fluidly. The trip to Kukuroo mountain had lasted nearly a week, and Hisoka had missed the warmth of his partner next to him. The prickle of short hair was new, but Illumi's fingers still reached out for his own, clasping them tightly to their chest.

Minutes crept by, and still Illumi's mind didn't rest. "I was anxious," they confessed. Behind them, they heard a slight _hmm._ "I wasn't sure what your reaction would be. It was unfamiliar. I didn't like it." 

Hisoka shifted closer, knees meeting the backs of Illumi's. "You say that as if I could ever consider loving you less."

"You do not."

"I do not what?"

Illumi tightened their hold on Hisoka's hand, frowning slightly. "Love me. You cannot. I am unloveable."

Pressing a kiss against their temple, Hisoka hummed once more. "I think you'll find that to be incorrect. Sweetheart, I do it every day."


End file.
